


The Wager in the Woods

by hufflepirate



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Campfires, Camping, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Aid, Fist Fights, Gen, Hiking, Marshmallows, Protective Siblings, Sabotage, Shoplifting, Siblings, Sunburn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepirate/pseuds/hufflepirate
Summary: When Lisa decides she wants to go camping, Mick and Len make a bet of it.  Mick's still not sure exactly how he got roped into taking a 10-year-old girl camping, but if Lisa doesn't like it, now it means he loses yet another bet with Len.  He's not used to being in charge of things, but he's tried to plan for every eventuality so that he can beat Len at his own game.  Unfortunately, things with the Snart siblings are rarely so straight-forward.





	1. The Bet

“Come on, Lenny, _please_?”

“No.”

Mick rolled his eyes fondly as he closed the door to the safe house behind him. What was a Tuesday afternoon without a little bickering between the Snart siblings, anyway?

“ _Pretty_ please?”

“Lise, you wouldn’t even _like_ it!”

As Mick walked into the kitchen, Len spotted him and roped him into the argument, as usual. “Come on, Mick, tell Lisa she would hate camping.”

“I love camping.” The words slipped out before he could think them through, and as Lenny’s eyes narrowed, he knew he was gonna pay for taking Lisa’s side somehow.

For now, though, Lisa was too excited, and maybe Len would cool off if Mick could delay things long enough. The younger Snart half launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his middle and squashing her face briefly into his chest before letting go. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

“You’re welcome?” he answered tentatively, not sure what exactly was going on. He took her side in arguments periodically, when Len was being too overprotective or too boring, but she usually responded with that sly Snart grin both siblings shared and then stepped back to watch with barely disguised glee as Len got pissy at him about it.

“So, when are we going?” Lisa asked brightly.

Oh. That was what was going on. Mick felt himself blushing slightly, “Oh, no, Lisa, I didn’t mean-”

Len was smiling now. That sly Snart grin that meant trouble. Shit.

“Yeah, Mick,” he interrupted, over-pronouncing the consonants in Mick’s name like they didn’t both already know he was about to pull a major asshole move, “When are you going?”

Lisa gasped with delight and raced to the other side of the room to hug her brother instead.

“Really, Lenny, I can go?”

Len didn’t break eye contact with Mick as he answered, “Sure. Mick’ll look after you. He can deal with it when you hate being out there. How about this weekend?”

Mick glared at his best friend. “We can’t, Len, remember, we’ve got that thing…” He didn’t know what thing he was talking about. He’d never been good with excuses. Usually when he had to make one, Len gave him a script beforehand.

“Oh, no,” Len answered casually, a sharp gleam in his eye, “It’s going to be at _least_ a week before that’s ready.”

Dammit. “I, uh,” he tried again, “I’m gonna have to go buy a tent and stuff. I haven’t been camping in a while. I don’t know if this weekend-”

Len interrupted again, smooth as ever, “It’s only Tuesday, Mick." The consonants of his name came out crisp and sharp again, and Mick almost flinched. "You’ve got plenty of time. Especially since the _thing_ ” he emphasized the word like he was making a joke out of it, and Mick glared at him, “Doesn’t require your involvement yet.”

This was really happening. He was really about to be taking a 10-year-old-girl camping. Sometimes, he wondered if his life would have been better or worse if he’d just let Leonard Snart get shivved in juvie.

He sighed. “Fine," he said, turning to Lisa, "I’ll pick you up from school on Friday.”

Lisa bounced over to hug him again, and Mick tried to resign himself to this weekend’s trip.

 

*****

 

As Mick strode through the sporting goods store, Len followed behind him, still smirking like the asshole he was. Mick tried to ignore him, pretending he couldn't hear the heavy, booted footsteps behind him.

When Mick came to a halt in front of the tents, Len watched him read through the information on each one, craning his neck to read over Mick's shoulder. Mick tried not to roll his eyes where Len could see.

The moment Mick made a decision and reached for one, Len interrupted, "Hmm - no."

Mick looked over at him, unable to stop the eye roll this time, "No what?"

"No on that tent. Lisa's little, but we'll still need more than a 2-person tent to fit all three of us."

Mick raised an eyebrow, "All three?"

"Oh, I have _every_ intention of being there when the whole thing falls apart."

That actually made perfect sense, or at least perfect sense where Len was concerned. Mick nodded. "Yeah. So you can gloat. And what are you gonna do when Lisa and I have a blast all weekend, instead?"

"Oh, you won't. A weekend in the woods with no air conditioning or bathrooms or showers or tv? You're gonna have a mutiny on your hands, just wait and see."

"And let me guess, you'll be part of the mutiny, too. So you can rub it in."

"Obviously."

Mick nodded. "Deal. Lisa gives up, you get to gloat and join the mutiny. Lisa has a good time, you have to come with us next time we go camping, and you have to pretend to be happy to be there."

Len nodded, "Deal."

Mick nodded back, then grabbed the tent he'd already picked. "Grab a second one. For you and Lisa."


	2. Friday

By the time Mick was packing the back of the truck, he could almost _feel_ the competition between him and Len in the air. They had everything they needed and several things they didn't, and he knew that. He still checked everything over three times before they left to get Lisa from school, just in case Len tried to sabotage him by taking one of the bags back out of the truck.

Len was coming in pretty confident, so he didn't think he was going to pull anything like that just yet, but it was better safe than sorry. Len didn't like losing, and it was better to be prepared.

When they arrived at Lisa's elementary school, Len got out and let her slide into the middle seat between him and Mick. She was small enough still that it wasn't a terribly tight squeeze, but they were going pretty far to get to the camp ground he wanted, and Mick immediately realized that if he wanted to win the bet with Len, he'd need to start getting Lisa on his side now, before Len could start turning her against him when she got tired of being stuck in the truck.

He let Lisa ramble at him about school for much longer than usual without telling her to pipe down, and the longer she went on, the wider Len's grin got. He knew what was up. Of course he did. And he didn't seem worried about it. Great.

The sign up ahead announced one of the bigger gas stations on their route, and Mick suddenly had an idea. "Gonna stop up there," he informed his passengers, "Probably time to let Little Bit stretch her legs instead of staying crunched in the middle, and I gotta take a piss."

Lisa grinned at him, "Can I get some sour gummy worms?"

Mick nodded, "Why not?"

Len was still smirking like he knew what Mick was up to and had a plan to deal with it already. Mick really hated him sometimes.

When they got out of the car, Lisa held her hand out toward him and Mick pulled out his wallet and shelled out a couple of bucks for candy, even though they all knew she wasn't going to pay for her gummy worms even if she could afford it.

By the time Mick pushed through the doors and into the rest stop, one of those big lavish places that advertised for miles before you got there, Lisa had run ahead and vanished between the rows of t-shirts and sweatshirts with punny state slogans on them. Len casually checked out both the fudge counter and the fudge seller behind it on the way to the bathroom, and Mick realized the gummy worm money wasn't going to be enough. Len had that gleam in his eye that meant he was going big or going home, but two could play at that game.

Mick had never been one for doing things the hard way, so after he and Len had gotten out of the bathroom and dragged Lisa away from the wall of cheap jewelry so that she would actually go to the bathroom while they were stopped, Mick looked casually but carefully at everything up and down the rows, focusing on quality instead of difficulty.

Len was chatting up the fudge seller, leaning casually against the glass case with his characteristic Leonard Snart charm, and Mick wrote the whole thing off. Len was about to get what he wanted, because Len never picked a fight he couldn't win. Not anymore, anyway. Mick focused on his own problem, until a solution appeared in front of him.

This was going to be better than fudge. He kept careful control over his facial muscles so that a smile wouldn't give him away, and casually slid the little box into his pocket as he kept moving.

The shouting started three minutes later, and when Lisa yelled for them to run, Mick and Len both did. As they bolted out the door and leapt into the car, Mick hoped that whatever Lisa had been caught stealing, she'd been caught with it before Len could talk his way into some fudge. Then Mick would really be ahead of the game.

He tore out of the parking lot and onto the on ramp so fast that he was already speeding when he hit the (luckily almost empty) highway, glad that he'd remembered to splash a little mud over his license plate before he loaded the car. He and Len had perfected the art of casually covering the numbers while making it look unintentional, though it was easier on his truck than it was with Len's little sedan. Mud looked more natural there.

He didn't think there were any cops nearby, and he knew the chances of anyone bothering to really track them down for a few little things wasn't very high - if they'd gotten away, like he was sure they had, that was probably the end of it.

A few miles later, he slowed down to a nice, relaxed 3 miles over the speed limit, to avoid drawing undue attention, and asked, "So, Little Bit, what'd you make away with?"

She grinned, "Three bags of gummy worms, 2 packages of those little chocolate donuts, a couple of key chains and almost a pair of earrings shaped like Missouri. I was _this close_ before that dumb lady noticed."

Mick nodded, "Not bad."

"Sounds like an accomplishment that deserves free fudge," Len added, sounding pleased with himself as he handed a big piece of fudge to his sister, "Yours has Oreos in it."

Of course. Len had gone for the one thing there that was under direct guard, and he'd fluttered his eyelashes until he'd gotten it. Even with Lisa getting caught. The only thing Mick hated more than how cocky Len could get when they were in competition was how often he proved he had a right to be.

"What's yours? It's green!" Lisa asked.

"Mint. Nice and cool for the sunny side of the car."

Mick sighed, knowing that if he didn't go ahead and ask about whether Len had gotten him any, Len would find a way to _make_ him ask. "You manage any for me?"

"Of _course_ , Mick," Len answered, "With walnuts."

Mick hated walnuts, and Lenny knew it. If he weren't driving, he'd make a point of picking them out or eating around them, but as it was, he just held his hand out. "Thanks."

His own surprise could wait until Len had been lulled into a false sense of security. No use breaking the surprise now, while Len was expecting it.

They were out of fudge and Lisa was halfway through her second package of donuts when they crossed the state line into Kansas and Mick pretended to remember about his present.

"Oh!"

Lisa turned to look at him.

"I almost forgot, Little Bit. Check in my coat pocket. I got you something."

Lisa pulled out the little plastic box and gasped, "The Aaliyah album!"

Mick grinned. "Yeah. Heard she was cool around your school." He hadn't. He'd asked the librarian what teenage girls liked while he was doing research for this trip, because if he'd learned anything in the last 8 years of being friends with Len, it was that you had to know your stuff if you were going to beat Snart at anything. "Get Len to bust it open and we'll go ahead and play it. We're still a ways from the camp ground."

The cassette was in its case, with a theft-deterrent shell over it. He and Len had figured out how to get into them several years ago, but he supposed they probably worked ok if you weren't professionals.

Len was quieter than usual as he pried the thing open and handed the tape back to Lisa. Mick grinned. One more point to him, then. Sort of. He and Len didn't enjoy the tape nearly as much as Lisa did, but then, they weren't competing for _each other's_ affections, so he was still willing to call this one a win.

 

*****

 

By the time they were pulling into their spot at the campground, which Mick had specifically picked out and registered for so that they could be far enough away from other campers to keep them out of trouble and near enough to the bathroom to keep Lisa and Len from being too miserable, Mick had had enough of R&B on the stereo and walnut residue on his teeth. It was a relief to stop.

 Len slid out of the truck with his usual languid calm, but Lisa exploded out of the truck behind him, excited to be there.

She'd been bouncing up and down in her seat since they pulled off the highway, and Mick figured he'd better channel that energy quickly before she could settle down and get bored with half the work of setting up left to do. He hurried to the back of the truck and pulled the tents out first.

"Hey, Little Bit, you ever put a tent up before?"

Lisa rolled her eyes expressively at him, "And when would I have done _that_ , Mick? Lenny and I built a bookshelf for my room last month though."

"Assembled," Len corrected, "From Walmart."

"Well," Mick said, "It's not so different. And we haven't lost the directions yet, so those'll help. Actually," he said casually, handing her the directions, "It's been a while since I did this, too. Why don't you keep ahold of these and remind me of what to do?"

"And why," Len interrupted, "Would Lisa want to help put together a tent she's not sleeping in?"

Mick grinned. Perfect. Even Len's interruptions were helping his plan. "Isn't she?" he asked, still keeping his voice casual, "I thought she was a little old to be sharing with her brother, so I _figured_ you and I were sharing that one and Lise was gonna get this one to herself."

He'd only thought of that one after he'd told Len the plan was for the Snarts to share a tent and him to take the other one, but he'd also realized that if he didn't tell Len about the change of plans, he could make himself look extra good in front of Lisa.

Len's eyes narrowed in displeasure for a moment before he got himself under control and smiled at them both. "You're probably right," he said breezily, "She _is_ growing up awfully fast."

Lisa had been watching the back and forth so attentively - and with such a pronounced smirk - that Mick was suddenly aware that she knew what they were up to, too. She knew they were competing over her attention, and when she turned a beaming smile on him, he knew he was winning for the moment. But he also knew the game had gotten a lot more complicated.

 

*****

 

The rest of the night went smoothly. Once the tents were set up, and Mick had fixed his and Len's where Snart had purposefully put it together wrong to spite him, Mick got the campfire going and pulled out a package of hot dogs and the sticks to cook them on. Lisa was thrilled, because it was just like she'd imagined it, and even Len seemed to be enjoying himself by the time they got to the marshmallows and s'mores.

Part of Len's enjoyment undoubtedly came from the fact that he'd taken over control from Mick, for the moment. It wasn't Mick's fault he'd always preferred his marshmallows thoroughly burnt. He loved watching them catch fire and holding them up so he could just look at them, burning at the end of his repurposed coat hanger. Sometimes it was hard to pull his eyes away from them, even for Lisa and Len.

For some reason, the Snart siblings seemed to be going for golden-brown instead of burnt. Neither of them was much good at it initially, but Len had always been a quick study, and he was patient. He had them coming out perfectly by his third marshmallow, and he was helping Lisa by his fourth.

Lisa got impatient, eating her marshmallows barely heated or lighting them directly on fire with Mick. She managed a few good ones, but once they got into making actual s'mores, she sweet-talked Len into roasting perfect marshmallows for hers while she kept eating her own half-cold and burnt ones. Mick tried to keep the fondness off his face, but when he failed, at least the Snarts were pretty well wrapped up their marshmallows at the moment.

Mick let Len and Lisa finish out the bag, especially when he noticed Len slowing down like he'd had enough. If Len wasn't stopping, it was because he was hoping tomorrow night would be less successful if they ran out of marshmallows now. It wouldn't. Mick had packed an extra bag in his backpack, separately from the rest of the food. He'd learned a lot from Len about the value of being prepared, and he knew better than to forget the lesson when he was going up against the man himself.

Once they were out of marshmallows, Mick regaled the Snarts with a couple of ghost stories, carefully memorized out of a library book he'd checked out Wednesday morning, once he could ditch Len. The first one came out pretty well, and the second one had more details of his own than details from the book, but he was lucky that Lisa was nodding off pretty heavily by the time he started the third one, because he forgot what was supposed to happen and had to wing it to the end.

He let Len and Lisa go up to the campground's bathroom, deciding while they were gone that he'd worry about the logistics of brushing their teeth with bottles of water tomorrow morning. For tonight, Lisa would probably be perfectly content to go to bed with marshmallow still in her teeth and Len... well, Len wasn't going to be happy regardless, so he might as well not pile anything new on top of the inadequacies of camp bathrooms.

Lisa got settled quickly, or at least, she seemed to, as far as Mick could tell through the tent. Len was less easily settled. He was unusually quiet, but Mick could sense, now that Len wasn't keeping his game face on for Lisa, that Len wasn't thrilled with how today had gone.

Mick grinned up at the roof of the tent. Len had always been a sore loser, and he had a bad habit of underestimating Mick's planning skills. After all, it wasn't like planning things was as hard as Len made it out to be. He was doing great so far, and it was only gonna get better. He could feel it.

"You set up our tent on _rocks_ ," Len groused eventually, unable to hold it in anymore, "The idea was for us to have a _good_ time."

"Nah," Mick answered, "The idea was for _Lisa_ to have a good time. And anyway, _you_ set up the tent, not me. Lisa's is definitely not on top of any rocks. Not any major ones, anyway."

"Yeah, well, we'll see how she sleeps. We're still on the _ground_. And tomorrow's a long day."

Mick let Len's complaints roll right over him. Any other day, they'd fight over it, but tonight Mick was feeling too good about things to let it bother him. "Go to sleep, Len. Can't have you tired on Lisa's hike tomorrow."

He rolled onto his side, with his back to Len, and fell asleep.


	3. Saturday

The next morning, Mick was up with the sun, which he was sure would surprise Len. He wasn't usually up so early, but he always felt more alive outside, and it was probably better to have everything ready for breakfast before the Snarts got up.

He got his bag of nonperishable foods out of the tree where he'd hung them last night to keep them away from animals, then went back to his truck to get out the cooler he'd hidden behind his toolbox and under a few cases of bottled water. He'd packed it and loaded it in the truck bed before Len got to his apartment, and if he hadn't been thrilled to have it sitting in the sun for the extra time, it had been worth it knowing Len couldn't sabotage his carefully packed meats and eggs.

By the time Lisa got up and ran to the bathroom and back, he had the fire going again and he'd pulled what he needed for breakfast out of the cooler, rearranging everything else to put it closer to the block of ice that was keeping everything cold.

Len crawled out of the other tent a few minutes later, once Mick and Lisa were halfway through layering their bacon, eggs, and hash browns into the tin foil that would cook them in the fire. He raised an eyebrow. "Where'd all this come from?"

"Cooler," Mick answered, "It's still in the truck. I'm trying not to move it around too much so things don't slosh around."

Before he could tell whether Len bought the lie or not, Lisa was interrupting. "Isn't this cool, Lenny? We don't even need pans or anything! Mick says the bacon has to go on the bottom, but I can have as much cheese as I want."

"Yeah," Mick added, "You'd better hurry up before Lisa clears us out of cheddar. I already started yours, but all I've got so far is foil and bacon."

Len grumbled for a while about how he'd slept and how far away the bathrooms were (if you could even call them bathrooms), but even he seemed pretty contented once he was settled down by the fire with his breakfast, the foil wrapped in one of Mick's ratty kitchen towels from home so that it wouldn't burn him.

The rest of the morning was equally successful. After Mick finished off Lisa's leftovers and put all the food away, the Snarts sunscreened up and sprayed on some bug spray and they went out on a hike. It was an easy one, almost more of a walk, but as good a game as Lisa had talked at home, Mick figured this was all she really wanted, anyway. He hoped so, at least.

Lisa skipped ahead of him in her tennis shoes, while Len clomped along behind him in his boots. Mick's own hiking boots were well worn-in and comfortable, and he didn't mind carrying most of their stuff in his backpack. The Snart siblings had enough water for themselves and the walkie-talkies he'd bought so they could get into contact with each other if anything went terribly wrong, but Mick was the one who had lunch in his pack, and a few other things squirreled away for when they needed them.

Len started grinning like the cat that ate the canary when Lisa said she was bored, but Mick pulled out a book of birds and kept her interested for a while longer trying to figure out what they were seeing around them.

Len looked even more self-satisfied when Lisa needed to pee and they were too far from the campsite to even think about going back to the bathroom. Mick pulled out another book, a backpacking guide for girls he'd checked out from the library, and flipped to the page that explained how to pee in the wilderness without making a mess. It wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever asked the librarian near his house about, but it was probably the most innocent of the weird things, all things considered.

When Lisa came back, after cheerfully informing them, via walkie-talkie, that she'd managed it just fine, Len was unusually silent, and he looked more serious than he had all weekend. For the next half hour, he didn't complain or shoot heist ideas past Mick, and when Mick decided they should stop for lunch and started handing out sandwiches, Len gazed suspiciously at his like he didn't quite believe everything was going this smoothly.

When Len suggested, casually, that they should try a little hiking on their own, off the trail, on their way back, Mick should have known it was a calculated play. Instead, he went with it. He went backpacking enough to trust his own navigational abilities, and since Lisa sounded excited by the idea, it seemed like the way to go.

An hour and a half later, Len casually asked how much farther it would be, since he thought they must be getting close to the campground. It was only then, as he looked up at the sun to gauge the time, that he realized they'd been going the wrong direction. He looked down at the compass in his hand. The sun was west of the center of the sky. West. Not east. Because it was the afternoon. Which meant his compass was pointing south.

His mind raced. The good news was that they'd at least started out in the right direction, while they were still in sight of the trail. The bad news was that even though he'd only checked his compass a couple of times and briefly (too briefly, or he'd have noticed something was wrong) he knew they'd gotten off and he wasn't sure how far off. He stopped in his tracks.

"My compass has flipped. It's pointing south."

"That's weird," Len said, "How d'you think that-"

"Do you mean we're _stuck_ out here?" Lisa interrupted.

"Don't worry, Lisa," Len said with an edge to his voice that sent a rush of ice down Mick's spine, "I'm sure the _great outdoorsman_ knows exactly where we are."

A sudden rush of anger washed over Mick. Len had flipped his compass. On purpose.

"Yeah," he answered, belligerently, "We're in the _woods_."

"We're _lost?_ " Lisa, usually almost as unflappable as her brother, actually sounded scared for once.

He had to get it together. Lisa was freaking out, and even if he weren't trying to ensure that she had a good weekend, he'd need both Snarts to stay calm enough for them to get back to the campsite.

"No-" Mick said, trying to think of a way out of this mess, "No, it's fine, we'll just- Let me just climb up one of these trees and take a look around." It was not fine. Nothing about it was fine. If it wasn't for Lisa being right there and afraid, he'd have punched Len on the spot, and he had every intention of doing it later. Twice, because it was also Len's fault that being around Lisa always made him go soft.

 

*****

 

The afternoon and evening were less successful than the morning had been, and by the time they made it back to camp, the sun was setting, Lisa had eaten all of Mick's emergency beef jerky, Len was struggling under the extra weight of Mick's backpack, and Mick had been carrying Lisa piggyback for more than a mile.

He'd been planning to get them back much earlier and make that fancy new recipe from Lisa's camping book for dinner, while he let Len and Lisa hang out in the tent and play cards or go swimming in the lake. Instead, he stumbled into the campground and set Lisa down, and then he started a fire to cook potatoes in. Baked potatoes in tin foil were going to have to be good enough, because he didn't have the energy for much else.

Len was leaning casually along the ground on the other side of the fire, suspiciously quiet and unusually reticent to make eye contact with him. Mick hoped it was because he'd realized how badly he'd miscalculated with the compass, and not because he was planning something else petty and dangerous.

"I don't _like_ potatoes," Lisa complained, as he started rolling them in foil. Mick bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her. After the stunt Len had pulled, there was no _way_ he was losing this bet. It would be unbearable. He faked a smile and forced himself up to his feet.

"Tell you what, why don't I grab some cheese and bacon. That'll help, huh? And some butter."

She wrinkled her nose and sighed, scratching at one of the mosquito bites she'd picked up during the hike. "I _guess_."

He ran through everything else in his head. What did he have that would get her back on his side again? What had he even been planning to - that was it! A real smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, but he tried to keep it contained. "We'll make banana boats after dinner. That'll be more fun."

Len was looking at him, now, out of the corner of his eye. He looked wary, and Mick had to fight even harder to keep the smile down to a manageable smirk. He'd show that asshole. He wasn't out of this yet.

"What's a banana boat?" Lisa asked.

"Bananas, cinnamon, marshmallows, and chocolate. It'll be real good. Almost as good as s'mores."

"Aww, but we ate all the marshmallows," Len informed him. He played it well, right on the edge between casual and whiny, right where he could start inciting a little mutiny without being directly to blame. Len was trying to start Lisa turning. Finally.

Mick let himself smile, and Len's eyes immediately went sharp and calculating. "You ate all the marshmallows you _knew_ about. I wasn't about to let us run out of _marshmallows_ on a _camping_ trip. Gotta be prepared."

"Wow, you're a regular boy scout," Len answered. That was a low blow. Not even very original. Mick smirked back. Nice to have Len on the ropes for once.

Mick could see Lisa's eyes lighting up again for just a second before she rolled them, trying to play it off like she hadn't just been successfully bribed with sugar. "I _guess_ I can make it through a _little_ potato first, then. But I want _lots_ of cheese."

"Little Bit," he answered, in genuine good spirits for the first time in hours, "You can have all the cheese you want."

Dinner was another exhausting affair, even after he dragged the cooler over to where he could get to it without extra trips to the truck. He kept getting up and down around the fire to bring things to Lisa because she didn't want to get up. Len made a pitiable enough face for Mick to cook up a potato for him, but he made a point of putting it just barely outside of Len's reach, so the elder Snart had to really reach for it, and then scoot over after it. He let Lisa make banana boats for both herself and her brother and pick out the one that came out best, leaving Len to drag himself up and come get the other one.

The moment Lisa stood up to go to the bathroom before bed, she winced, and both Mick and Len were instantly focused on her.

"You ok, Lise?" Len asked.

"My feet hurt," she said with a grimace, "I thought they were just tired, but they actually hurt. It's probably nothing, though." She took a couple of steps toward the path that led to the bathroom, wincing again.

Mick was moving before his brain could catch up to him. "Hey, slow down. I'll carry you. I gotta go to the bathroom, anyway. We'll all three go."

As soon as Lisa was back up on Mick's shoulders, Len reached up to hold her hand. Mick half wondered what they looked like, walking up to the shared camp toilets like this, but mostly he was just trying to keep his temper in check. He'd been expecting a lot of shitty things from Len this trip, but nothing that actually hurt Lisa. It was cheating, and there was nothing Mick could do to cheat back.

At the bathroom, Mick squatted down and let Lisa climb gingerly off of his back. The second the door closed, he whirled around to face Len, who had his hands up in front of him before Mick could even start to throw the punch he'd been holding back.

"Hold up," Len said, "I know. The compass was a mistake. In my defense, I thought you would catch it a lot faster."

"What the hell!" Mick couldn't find the words. Punching would have been easier, but it was never as easy as it seemed to get a hit in when Len was ready for it. "Lisa's actually _hurt_ ," he finally spat, "And that's on _you_ , not me." It was the worst thing he could think of to say to Len, and almost made up for not getting to punch him.

"Don't you think I know that?"

"You got us _lost_! It could have been _worse_!"

"You're _supposed_ to be this great outdoorsman!"

Mick shoved past Lenny to stop himself from taking a swing at him. Better to save that for when Len's guard was down and they weren't in the middle of the campground. "Move. I gotta pee."

Len let himself get shoved out of the way, but he wasn't ready to give up the fight. Of course he wasn't. Mick had known he wouldn't be. "Guess this is what I get for actually giving you credit for something."

That was it. Mick threw a punch, but Len was ready for it and ducked it. "That's more like it," he sneered, "Going at a problem fist-first."

Mick swung again, but Len stepped backward, out of the way. "What's wrong with you, Snart?"

"What do you _think_ 's wrong with me, Mick?" The consonants popped again, the way they always did when Len was angry or pretending to be, and Mick growled back. Sometimes he didn't play-hate Leonard Snart. Sometimes he just hated him. "You made me go _camping_."

" _You_ made you go camping," Mick retorted, taking another swing that missed, because his best friend was a slippery little bastard he never should have taken up with.

Lisa came out of the bathroom before the fight could go any farther, all the anger draining out of Len as soon as the door opened, and _damn_ him for dropping the fight so fast while Mick was struggling not to let Lisa see how angry he still was. For a minute, Mick could see a sadness in Len, a regret Len couldn't own up to, and his stomach twisted a little. But then Len's usual mask was back in place and Mick could go right back to wanting to punch him once they got away from Lisa.

Neither he nor Len had actually used the men's room, but a glance between them was enough to confirm that neither of them wanted Lisa to figure that out. Mick let her climb back up onto his back and they went back to the campsite, Lisa breaking up the stony silence between them by babbling about how she was _so_ ready to go to bed and she was gonna sleep _so_ well even though sleeping bags weren't as comfortable outside as she'd expected.

As soon as Lisa was in her tent, Mick whirled on Len again, and this time he managed to get in a solid punch before Snart could get his defenses up. Lenny stumbled backward, almost falling in surprise, and Mick felt something inside him relax. Len might hit him back, but at least they were breaking the tension, and at least he'd _done_ something about the fact that Lisa was hurt and Len was a cheater.

Lisa's voice, calling for both of them with an edge of panic, stopped the fight before it could really get started, but that was ok. Mick felt better now that he'd gotten a good punch in. At least, he felt better until Lisa unzipped her tent again and held up her left foot so they could see it in the light of her electric lamp. Her sock was bloody at the ball of her foot and at the heel, and she hadn't even managed to get the other shoe off yet.

Len cursed behind him, but Mick was closer to Lisa and made it to her first. He was kneeling down to get a better look when Len shoved him sideways on his way to Lisa and he almost toppled over. "What happened?"

Len rarely asked stupid questions, which meant Mick was the calm one right now. It was never good when Mick was the calm one, but then again, this trip had been going pretty well for something he was in charge of, until this afternoon.

"You're ok, Little Bit," Mick said once he'd steadied himself, trying to calm Lisa down, "They're just blisters. We'll get you patched up."

"She's _bloody_ ," Len said accusingly, sounding less panicked than he had a moment ago, but still too worried to be processing things like he usually did. It was just a _little_ blood, and besides that, it was Len's fault, not his.

Mick didn't mention either of those facts, because Lisa was already upset. Instead, he took charge. "Grab a couple of bottles of water and the first aid kit out of the truck. She'll be fine."

Len was in better control of his emotions now, narrowing his eyes at Mick for a moment before deciding he was right and heading over toward the truck. Mick tried to keep the relief off his face.

With Len out of the way, he studied Lisa, who was still standing on one foot, looking plaintively at him. That wasn't going to work, especially because he doubted she only had blisters on the one foot.

"Come here," he said, "I'll carry you over by the fire so we can see to clean these up." He scooped her up and carried her over to sit on the cooler.

"Where's the first aid kit?" Len shouted from the truck.

"It's in a tool box," he shouted back, kneeling down in front of Lisa and starting to work her other shoe off. She made faces at him, and since Len was still rooting through the truck, he let himself apologize quietly. "Sorry, Little Bit. I know it's rough." Soft. Leonard Snart had made him go goddamned soft with this whole sister business. She smiled at him like she was trying to make him feel better. It mostly worked.

"These are _tools_!"

Mick rolled his eyes. "The _other_ tool box!" Lisa giggled, and Mick used the brief moment of levity to wrench her shoe the rest of the way off her foot. The right sock was just as bloody as the left, and both, up close, had clearly clotted into the wounds. "And don't forget the water!" he added.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it."

Lisa snorted, amused. "He doesn't like it when you tell him what to do."

"Well, then he shouldn't have put me in charge of the trip," Mick answered. Lisa rolled her eyes fondly. Mick suspected the eye roll was aimed at both of them, but pretended it was just for Len.

Leonard came back with two bottles of water and the entire first aid kit, and then stood way too close to Mick's shoulder, watching him.

"We're just gonna soak your socks a little so I can get them off," Mick told Lisa taking one of the water bottles from Len like he didn't know the other man was seconds away from shoving him aside again, "And then Len can get some band-aids on those blisters."

Lisa nodded and Mick opened the first of the water bottles, pouring it slowly over the bloody part of her heel. He rolled the top of her sock down, so he'd be ready to slip it down over her heel when it came loose. Even that took some doing, because she'd worn those socks all the girls were into, slouchies or whatever, and they were a pain in the ass. He'd never had much of an opinion on them before, but he suspected he'd have one by the time Lisa was patched up.

When he got close to the blister, it became apparent that the sock was definitely still stuck, so he kept pouring water over it, hoping he could get it to come loose. He tested the sock a few times, always getting too much resistance to keep pulling without hurting her. Len was clearly getting antsy and Mick wished he could make things go faster. Then he had an idea.

"Ok," he said, "So let's see if we can soak it a little better, instead of pouring it over." It took them all some rearranging, but they ended up with a system that seemed to work. Mick cupped his hands underneath Lisa's heels while Len poured water into them, periodically trying to get Lisa's socks loose. It worked better, and eventually Len could peel the sock away from the blister without ripping it back open. Then they moved on to the ball of her foot, which took long enough for Mick's back to get tired from kneeling at this angle.

Once the sock was off, he took a moment to stretch while Len opened up the first aid kit and got Lisa's blisters bandaged up. He hit just the right angle, cracking his spine back into what felt like a better alignment, and sighed with relief. Len glanced up at him, his defenses down for the first time in a while. Mick never could read Len when his friend was being genuine with him, so instead he looked away, a little bit uncomfortable, and refocused on Lisa, who was clearly exhausted.

"One more foot to go, Little Bit," he announced, kneeling back down in front of her, "We got this."

Lisa started dozing off before they'd even gotten the heel loosened, resting her head on her knee like she just couldn't keep it up any longer, and they rearranged themselves again, Len taking a seat on the cooler so that Lisa could sit in his lap and lean against him. Len was still looking at Mick without his usual cold stare in place, and Mick tried not to make it too obvious that he wasn't meeting Len's eyes.

It was always weird when things got real between them. It was one thing to watch Len melt around Lisa and let himself ease up a little. It was another thing to let the walls down between the two of them. He was much more comfortable when everything was a little fake and he could just play the tough guy.

It was hard to play the tough guy when he had his hands full of somebody else's bloody sock water. They both knew they'd be asleep by now if he'd been willing to rip Lisa's blisters back open, and they both knew that if it was anybody else but his asshole best friend's asshole little sister, he'd have made them suck it up ages ago. Still, Lisa was Lisa, so here they were, squinting at little white bloody slouchy socks in the dark while Mick tried to pretend he and Len weren't both soft as marshmallows around her sometimes.

By the time they got to the ball of her foot, Mick's mind had spun the whole thing around long enough to conclude that they were just being ridiculous. Lisa had toughed out far worse than a few bleeding blisters, and they were the only ones who spoiled her like this anyway, and she probably wouldn't even mind that much. It wasn't like they didn't know she could take a punch or tough out a cigarette burn. The blisters weren't even their fault.

But then he realized Lisa had fallen asleep in Len's lap, and he remembered how much he always wanted to punch something when Lisa was hurt, and he resigned himself to dissolving one more patch of blood the hard way.

He bandaged up her second foot himself, since Len wasn't at a good angle to do it, and then helped Snart get to his feet without dropping Lisa. It was a relief letting her brother carry her to her tent and tuck her into her sleeping bag, and it gave him time to toughen himself up again, shaking his head like that would clear it of feelings.

He stretched again, then got up to get the rest of their food put away so that he could go to sleep. He wasn't sure how late it was, but it was late enough. He felt like he was about to collapse.

Len came out of Lisa's tent still looking open and artless and unreadable, and Mick couldn't stand it. "Asshole," he grunted.

"I know." Len sounded tired and real and Mick didn't have the energy to think about what that meant.

"Fuck you, Lenny."

"That too."

Len didn't get this way very often. He wasn't self-pitying, he didn't act guilty, and he didn't acknowledge his mistakes. Mick both desperately wanted to punch him and desperately wanted not to, so he settled for making the comment he'd held in before. "You know all of this is your fault, right?"

"Yeah." Len sounded exhausted, and nothing about that word sounded like a weapon, and half the fun of arguing was gone.

"Go to bed then, asshole," Mick answered, waving his hand dismissively "And try not to fuck anything else up."

Len nodded and then vanished into their tent without a fight, one last uncharacteristic acceptance that he'd messed up.

As soon as he was gone, Mick felt like he could breathe again. By himself, it was almost better and things were almost normal, and Mick had come out here for a weekend of their usual mayhem and competition, not for all these _feelings_.

He wished he'd packed a beer. He'd started to pack beer, but then he'd decided that if he did, Lisa might want some, and then he'd have to say yes or no and so would Len and everything would be too unpredictable and Len would somehow spin it to his advantage. And then he'd still almost packed them anyway. But he hadn't, and he couldn't have a beer, and he was just going to have to make due. Before he put the fire out, he struck a match and let it burn all the way to his fingertips and singe them just a little bit. Then he threw it onto the rest of the embers and doused the whole thing. It helped, a little, even though it shouldn't.

By the time he made it to their tent, Len was tucked into his sleeping bag, eyes glinting faintly in the light of the lamp he'd left on for Mick. Mick got ready for bed in silence, trying to pretend he didn't know Lenny was still awake.

Snart didn't break the silence until Mick was in his sleeping bag, reaching to turn off the lantern.

"Hey, Mick," he said, his voice less sad, but no more sharp-edged than it had been a few minutes ago.

"What?"

"I've got blisters, too."

Mick wasn't sure whether to take that as a joke or an apology. He grunted and rolled over quickly, whipping his pillow at Len's head and surprising the other man enough to make contact. "Go to sleep."

Len snatched the pillow out of his hand, but then flung it back at him, aiming for his face. " _You_ go to sleep."

"You're _such_ an asshole," Mick answered.

"We're all assholes."

Mick grunted back. That was true, right up until it wasn't, but he didn't much like thinking about that. It was easier just to pretend it was true all the time. He shouldn't be smiling, but somehow he was.


	4. Sunday

They both slept late the next morning, and Mick woke up just hoping things would be back to normal. He crawled out of his sleeping bag, leaving Len behind for now, only to find Lisa sitting calmly on top of the first aid kit waiting for him. She was wearing her pajamas and had her still-bandaged feet jammed into a pair of slide-on platform sandals. With the exception of her feet, all of her visible skin was a bright red.

"Morning!" she said cheerfully, like she hadn't noticed or wasn't bothered by the burns.

"Morning," he answered, distracted. He'd meant to get everyone up early this morning because Lisa wanted to go fishing, but now he and Len had already slept until 10:30, and he didn't think it was a good idea to have Lisa out on the lake in the sun when she was already pretty badly burned. He hoped she wouldn't take the change of plans too hard.

"What's for breakfast?" Lisa asked.

 _That_ he could answer, anyway. "Crescent rolls. But we're gonna heat 'em up on sticks over the fire."

She grinned. "And bacon?"

He laughed, "Sure! There's a little bit left, and the cooler's getting to the point where we gotta eat it sooner rather than later." The rest of the bacon, minus what they ate last night, had been meant to go in the fancy recipe from the library book, but they were supposed to go home tonight, so he wouldn't have time to make it anyway, and it seemed too fiddly to bother with it for lunch.

"Good."

He studied Lisa for a moment, trying to decide whether he ought to do something about the sunburn before or after breakfast. You had to feed kids, but he'd get an earful from Lenny if he didn't do something about those burns soon, and he wasn't sure if being hungry or achy would make her turn on him faster when he said they were gonna have to stay in camp all day instead of renting a canoe and going out on the lake.

Len would probably have some kind of kid-raising instinct that gave him the answer, but Mick was on his own. His stomach growled, and he made up his mind to at least start the fire before breakfast time turned too much into lunchtime. He could worry about the rest later. But he could also let Len sleep instead of getting him up, in case he'd gotten it in the wrong order.

Mick had stashed enough firewood for most of the trip in the back of the truck, so it would be quickly accessible, but they were starting to run low, and he wasn't sure he wanted to leave the Snarts unattended or make Lisa help to get more. Lunch might just be PB&Js, but that was probably alright. He'd packed Lisa's favorite overly sweet mixed berry jam, and he had Nutella if he really needed to spoil her with sugar.

Once the fire was started, but not to the right stage for cooking over, Mick went over to the first aid kit and pulled out a bottle of aloe vera gel.

"Let's get some of this on that sunburn before it gets worse, Little Bit. Should help with the pain, too."

By the time Len crawled out of their tent, Lisa was squatting in front of the fire, blowing on a freshly cooked hunk of crescent roll dough while Mick rubbed aloe into her shoulders. She'd helpfully agreed to change out of her pajama shirt and into a tank top so he could get to all her sunburns, but still had her pajama pants on over her sandals.

Mick wasn't sure if Len was back to his old self again after the weirdness of last night, so he tried not to look. "I need an arm," he demanded, keeping his focus on Lisa, "Whichever's most burnt."

Len snorted, amused, and Mick let himself glance over. Len was sunburned, too, though not as badly as Lisa. "What are you eating?" he asked Lisa.

"Crescent rolls!" she answered, waving her stick at him cheerfully with the arm Mick wasn't slathering in aloe.

"I think she's already eaten half the can," Mick said, "So you'd better hurry."

Instead, Len came over and grabbed the aloe from Mick. "Other arm, Lise," he ordered, "I think you're crispier than that bread." She squawked as Len went ahead and grabbed her arm, leaving her unable to keep eating until Mick gave back the other one. Len was his usual self again, if a little quieter than sometimes, and he was feeling well enough to passively-aggressively monopolize the second can of dough so that Mick ended up with much less breakfast than the other two. It was good for things to feel normal again.

The rest of the day was calm. Lisa seemed almost relieved when Mick told her he didn't think they should leave camp this afternoon (which seemed to cement Mick's victory over the weekend) and happily made a list with him of fun indoor activities that would be cool to do in a tent.

Playing poker in such a small tent made cheating even easier than usual, but that didn't matter much when they were only playing for marshmallows. The cards got a little sticky once they added jelly sandwiches into the mix, but once they realized Little Bit was doing it on purpose and using it to try out a new system of marking cards, they were more proud than annoyed. Lisa was getting better at cheating all the time, and Mick was pretty sure he'd be the most obvious one out of all of them, soon.

When Lisa got restless, they went down to the lake, where Mick had promised to teach her how to skip stones. Len, ever the city boy, had never done it either, and Lisa was thrilled to get her first skip before he did. Len was a quick learner and managed a double skip well before Lisa, but he still failed to get any skips often enough for Lisa not to get frustrated. Mick was a little rusty and missed a few, too, which inevitably sent Lisa into paroxysms of giggles.

When they got tired of that, Mick thought about trying to call it a day early and start packing up for home, but he was afraid Len would count that as forfeiting the bet, so he suggested a few more games in the tent, instead.

Lisa was always willing to play Pictionary, used enough to both Len's precise almost-diagrams and Mick's messy scrawling approximations that she could usually guess pretty quickly what they were trying to draw, and Len was aggressively good at jotto. Mick and Lisa teamed up against him, trying to ignore the cold, superior calm on his face as they debated what to guess next and then inevitably lost anyway.

Before he knew it, it really _was_ time for them to get going, and here they were, completely unpacked. "We gotta pack up and hit the road if we wanna get home before too late," he commented.

Lisa pouted immediately. "But Mick, this is so fun! And anyway, I'm _hungry_. Can't we eat around the fire _one_ more time before we leave?"

When he didn't answer right away, she kept wheedling, sensing weakness. "It doesn't have to be fancy or cool or anything, I _promise_! We could just eat, like, the leftover hotdogs from Friday night and we can use the rest of the firewood so we don't have to take it home, and then we can sit around the _fire_ and put _sticks_ in it and _burn_ the rest of the marshmallows and-"

She kept going, but he had her number. She was emphasizing the fire, hoping he'd fixate on it, like once he had the image in his head of open flames that didn't put anybody at risk, for once, and flaming marshmallows that charred and melted and came out pitted and crisp and-

"Mick," Len interrupted, consonants popping crisply again, "You can't really be thinking of _staying_."

Mick almost made it back to himself. He didn't need a fire. He didn't. He'd won. Lisa wanted to stay and hadn't mutinied. He didn't need a fire. Len was beaten and trying not to show it and that was a victory and he didn't need a fire. He didn't. He'd been out here all these days and lighting fires and they'd been contained and he'd been focused at the task at the hand and he didn't need.... he didn't need...

"It's just for a little while," he answered both of them at once, "Just for dinner. I got a couple more hot dogs and there's more potatoes that I grabbed just in case and we might as well eat those now, so we don't have to stop for food on the way home." There was also some chicken in the cooler, but he wasn't so sure about that now that he hadn't cooked the recipe from the book, and he wasn't sure he was up to figuring something out, just now.

His hands were itching to start the fire, and Len's eyes were sharp, hyper focused on him, like he knew.

"Mick, I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Lenny, _please_?" Lisa was fluttering her eyelashes, and Mick tried to enjoy it, instead of feeling that rush of terror and elation he always got when he was about to start a fire and thought he probably shouldn't.

The rush overwhelmed him anyway. He'd remember that he'd won later. He could be happy about it then. Now, he just had to decide about the fire. And they were outdoors, where they were supposed to have a fire. And the lake was right there. And the other people at the nearby campsites would come say something if the fire got too big. There would be help. It was safe. Wasn't it?

"It'll be fine," he told Len, hoping he hadn't said it too fast, or seemed too eager. He didn't always feel this impulse to set fires, and they both knew that, but it was strong when he did feel it, and they both knew that too. He faked a smile, thinking about all of the face muscles, hoping his forehead didn't give away that the smile took some effort.

"Lennyyy," Lisa wasn't even pretending to have a real argument, now. But if she'd stopped pretending, then Len was about to crumble, and once he did, maybe Mick could move before the tremor in his hands got visible.

"Fine," Len said, "But we're leaving _right_ after dinner. I want to get home and take a shower."

Lisa grinned, springing forward to hug her brother, and Mick forced himself to stand up at a reasonable speed to go start the fire, and then to move like everything was still casual.

By the time the fire was ready to cook in, he'd singed his fingers twice, but that had been ok. It had been on purpose. It was grounding. Probably not what his shrink would call a "healthy coping mechanism," but the fire was a reasonable size, and he could look away from it for a little bit to get the Snarts fed, and all of that seemed alright.

He let Len put the fire out for him, focusing on packing up their stuff and pretending the fire was still here, waiting for him. It helped to push gently against the parts of his fingers that hurt.

They piled into the truck, Lisa asking how long it was gonna take them to get home and whether Mick was gonna go home, too, or sleep on their couch like he did sometimes. Mick made his best guesses, and then turned the key in the ignition. The truck didn't start.

He tried again, and then a third time, Lisa suddenly falling silent next to him. When the third attempt did nothing, Mick flung a hand out toward Len before he could say anything. "It's probably nothing. I'll check under the hood."

He could feel Len judging him from the cab, but he didn't look. Instead, he popped the hood open, hoping it was something obvious and fixable. No dice. He checked the things he could think of, but everything seemed - wait.

He stormed over to Len's side of the truck and ripped the door open, "I can't believe you!"

"What the hell, Mick?"

"There's no _fuse_ in the fuel pump."

"And you think _I_ did that?" Len asked, "I didn't even want to _come_ here, Mick. I was hoping we'd leave _early_."

"So who did?" he bellowed. It had to be Len. It _had_ to be.

"How the hell should I know?" Len spat back.

"You know," Lisa said casually, "I _did_ think I heard something in the middle of the night last night. Maybe somebody else at the campsite lost their fuel thingy and stole yours. Or maybe it was a squirrel!"

Mick snorted. "I don't think it was a squirrel."

"Does the missing thingy look like a nut? 'Cause if it does, then it's _definitely_ a squirrel." She was grinning endearingly, looking innocent like it was only half a joke, when he knew it was a whole one.

Len was looking between the two of them with his eyes narrowed, and Mick wondered, for a passing moment, if Lisa might have done it, instead of Len. But that didn't make any more sense than Len doing it, and he didn't think Lisa would know how to disable a car anyway.

Mick let go of the thought, pushing forward. "Until I can get a new one, we're not going anywhere. Help me find a payphone."

"No point," Len said, "It's after 5:00 on a Sunday, and we're in the middle of nowhere."

Mick cursed. Len was right. Of course Len was right.

"But... what does that mean?" Lisa asked, voice sounding small and a little scared.

Mick could see on Len's face that he wanted to snap about it, but his best friend's voice came out gentle anyway. "It means we're gonna have to set the tents back up and stay here until we can call somebody tomorrow morning."

Lisa frowned. "But we were supposed to go home! What about school tomorrow?"

"Looks like you're gonna have to miss it, Lise. I'll call _them_ in the morning, too."

Lisa thought about that for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her face. "I mean, I _guess_ if I _have_ to miss school, Miss Clark is just gonna have to be ok with it. If I really _can't_ make it." She thought for a moment longer. "But what about breakfast tomorrow? Do we have breakfast for tomorrow? Or lunch - Do we need lunch?"

Mick nodded at her. "We got bread and peanut butter, so we'll be alright. A little bored, but alright."

Lisa studied him for a moment, and then burst into a full-scale grin. "I bet I can remember how to put my tent back up!"

They set the campsite up again, trying to take as little as possible back out of the truck, and Mick tried to decide whether the competition between him and Len was still on now or not. He was tired of being in charge, ready to hang it up, but he was also sure that if Lisa got grumpy tonight, Len would somehow turn it into him losing the bet, so maybe he didn't have a choice.

"I'm gonna go get some firewood," he said, hoping that escaping them for a little bit would help him resolve himself to this whole thing. It was getting dark anyway, so it was definitely time for a fire.

By the time he made it back to camp, he had a plan. He told another couple of ghost stories, without marshmallows this time, making his scariest ghost voices while Lisa clung onto Len, really wrapped up in the stories this time, instead of half-listening while she focused on eating. They went to bed early, but not so early that Lisa would be mad about it, and Mick tried not to fume too much about still being out here.

Len told him off the moment they'd made it into their tent, his voice practically sizzling with rage but still quiet enough to keep Lisa from hearing it from her tent. "What kind of game are you playing, Mick? Are you just trying to rub it in now? She likes camping. I _get it_."

"What game are _you_ playing?" he whispered back, "You trying to buy extra time for her to get bored? That it? Can't stand losing so you're gonna strand us _again_?"

They were five minutes into what was an unusually quiet fight between them when Lisa's voice called to them from outside the tent. "Lenny? Mick?"

Len was still glowering at Mick, but kept his voice light to answer Lisa. "What's wrong, Lise?"

"Can I come in with you? I'm scared that guy that broke the truck is gonna come back."

"Of course!"

Len answered for both of them, his glare daring Mick to argue as he got up to let his sister in.

Mick was half convinced that he'd have gotten Len to admit to sabotaging the truck if Lisa hadn't come in, but he was also half convinced that Len was actually telling the truth, if he wasn't rubbing in his cleverness in buying more time for Lisa to decide she didn't like camping after all. Either way, they could hardly fight about it with Lisa here and scared, so they didn't.

There wasn't really room for all three of them to sleep comfortably once Lisa had jammed herself into the middle, but Len unzipped his sleeping bag so he and Lisa could share it, wrapped up like a taco instead of a burrito, and they made it work. Mick woke up in the middle of the night with Lisa plastered against his back, arms wrapped around him, but that was surprisingly ok. It wasn't like Lisa hadn't fallen asleep against him before, when they let her stay up late to watch movies on tv.

Mick even felt himself getting less angry about the truck, which wasn't even fair. Len was cheating, somehow.  Using Lisa was cheating. He wasn't sure how exactly Len had managed it, but he was sure it was cheating.


	5. Aftermath

In the morning, he tried to tell himself that everything was fine and they were about to be headed back home and he'd still won the bet and his truck wasn't permanently harmed. He listened with some amusement as Len lied, bald-faced, on the phone. He casually explained to the secretary at Lisa's school that she was feeling sick and had to stay home and no, she was alright, he thought it was just a 24-hour bug, but thank you for your concern.

The truck took more finagling, even after they'd found a nearby mechanic in the phonebook, and required several quarters and Len stepping in to sweet-talk the mechanic over the phone in place of Mick's angry rant about not paying so much for something he could fix himself if he weren't stranded at a camp ground. By noon they were on the road, ready to hit up the first fast-food joint they came to, and Mick was calm again, because Len had suggested he light a fire while they waited for the mechanic and it had been just enough. (The fact that he'd started a slow leak in one of the man's tires, to punish him for being difficult, didn't hurt, either.)

He had a new burn on his right arm, but just a little one, and he was calmer. He probably needed to see that shrink again, but he probably wasn't going to. Either way, he'd won, and Len was the one mutinying now, if it even counted as a mutiny when it was Monday, and Lisa seemed perfectly happy with the whole thing. He was starting to appreciate that, again. Len had gotten what they wanted out of that mechanic with less trouble and for less money than he could have, but he'd still won the bet.

They let Lisa get ice cream with lunch, long drive or not, and got back to town well after school was out for the day. Mick could tell with one look at Len that he was never going to admit to having lost the bet in front of Lisa, so he dropped the Snarts off outside their house and had done with it. He could get a confession out of Len tomorrow while they were scoping out that new target Len had picked out last week.

 

*****

 

Len called him after dropping Lisa off at school and told him he was going back to bed and they could meet for lunch to talk about the heist. Mick suspected he was delaying, but that was ok. He could wait, and he never minded a little more sleep. They agreed on 12:00, and he managed not to laugh at Len on the phone.

He woke up at 11:50, which was no good, because he suspected Len would expect him to have his usual surveillance equipment for staking out the place after lunch, and their usual Big Belly Burger, the one a half-block from Lisa's school, was closer to Len's house than Mick's apartment. Cursing, he dumped enough out of his hiking backpack to jam the rest of his stuff into it and hurried out the door.

He didn't realize his walkie-talkie from the hike was still in his backpack until he and Len were halfway through lunch, and Len was still refusing to admit he'd lost the bet. He kept talking about 'extenuating circumstances' like most of the extenuating circumstances hadn't been of his own making. Suddenly, the walkie in Mick's backpack squawked, and Lisa's voice came through.

"See, you just push this button and the other one can hear you if you're in range-"  Mick wrinkled his forehead, pulling his walkie out of his bag and putting it on the table where they could hear.  "I was in the woods _by myself_ 'cause my brother and Mick knew I could call them."

Another girl's voice answered, "Whoa! Weren't you scared?"

"Psh. I'm _never_ scared."  Mick snorted and Len smirked at him.

There was a clunking noise, and the walkie cut out and in and out and in again. Mick thought Lisa might have put it down on the talk button. "Anyway, I told you I'd get out of that presentation. Didn't I tell you? My group was the _worst_."

Len's face slid into a smirk. "I told you I didn't mess with the car," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Mick asked. Len waved at him to be quiet.

"I still can't believe your brother let you go _camping_ on a school day!" the girl said over the walkie.

"The thing with brothers," Lisa said knowledgeably, "Is you just gotta know how to play 'em. And the best way is to set 'em against each other. _That's_ how I got my Aaliyah tape _and_ got to stay out there instead of coming home. They were competing over who was gonna be right about me liking or not liking camping, so Mick had to be extra nice to me, and Len had to be extra nice at first so I would be on his side when he got tired and I'd want to leave.  Only then once it was time, _neither_ of them could make us leave when I wanted to stay 'cause Len could count it as Mick forfeiting if _he_ said we should leave and Mick could count it as Len _making_ me leave when I didn't want to if he said we had to go, and then it would _really_ look like Lenny lost, and he'd never let that happen."

Mick was gob smacked. That little - she'd _known_ the whole time!

Len was almost laughing and looked as proud as Mick had ever seen him.

"So you just milked it?" the other girl asked.

"Oh yeah," Lisa answered. "We got to listen to Aaliyah in the car, and I got to eat _so_ many marshmallows and _so_ much candy."

"You're, like, _super_ sunburned, though."

Lisa laughed. "You should see my foot blisters, too! That's ok though. The hike was really fun until it started hurting, and then I got to spend the whole next day being waited on. They brought me _everything_ , and we got to just play games all day and nobody even _mentioned_ the homework in my backpack, which I really thought they were gonna. I was gonna pout my way out of it anyway, but then I didn't even have to."

Len and Mick met each other's eyes and didn't laugh, but it was a close thing. You had to admire a play like that. Even if it was on you.

"I still don't get how you got them to let you stay for an extra day, though! I'm pretty sure my mom and dad would have been like 'ahh, you're so sunburned, time to go home!'"

Lisa snorted. " _Never_ underestimate my brother's competitive streak. And anyway, once I decided for sure that I liked camping enough to stay over to get out of the presentation - 'cause I wasn't _sure_ , you know, I mean, Lenny _did_ say it was gonna be awful, and, like, I thought maybe I would wanna leave after Saturday and do the presentation anyway even though I _told_ my group I wasn't gonna do the whole thing by myself and I _told_ them they were gonna regret it if they didn't start doing stuff - but anyway I was _only_ gonna do the presentation if the camping thing was awful and it _wasn't_ awful, and like, my feet hurt real bad so I _almost_ decided just to go home, but then I thought how they were both being so _nice_ to me and I thought screw it, I'm gonna make sure we're here long enough to get me out of that presentation, 'cause I bet tomorrow's not that bad."

"Yeah, but how'd you _do_ it?" the girl prompted.

"I stole the fuse out of Mick's fuel pump."

Mick looked Len in the eye. Snart smirked at him, like an I told you so, and Mick was pretty sure he should be angry, but he couldn't get there through the confusion.

"You what?" The girl was confused too.

"I broke the car. But not, like, _broke_ broke. Grandpa showed me all _kinds_ of things about engines last year, and like - I was gonna just put the part back overnight if they didn't figure out what was wrong, but then Mick _did_ figure out and I could tell Lenny was suspicious, so I had to pretend extra hard it wasn't me and then they took the truck to a mechanic and we all went out for ice cream."

"If I broke my dad's car, I would _not_ get ice cream." Len was laughing now, quietly, his breath coming unevenly as he tried to stifle it.

"It's ok," Lisa said, "They both thought each other did it. I _told_ you. You just gotta know how to play 'em."

" _I_ think you're making it up," her friend said, " _I_ think you really _were_ sick yesterday, and you're just pretending."

"Then how'd I get _this_?"

"What _is_ that?"

"The fuse out of the fuel pump! Don't you ever _listen_ , Jess?"

"Hey, quit, I listen! I still say it's crazy -"

Whatever Jess thought was crazy got lost as the bell rang faintly and the walkie thumped and turned off.

Len dissolved into laughter, not bothering to hide it anymore, but Mick had finally gotten his head around the fact that Lisa had sabotaged his truck.  "It's not funny!  She could have actually ruined my truck if she'd messed with the wrong thing!"

Len took a deep breath, calming down enough to say, "Nah, Grandpa would have taught her better than that.  I should have remembered about that. They were taking his old truck to pieces and putting it back all summer."

"She's really that good with cars?" he asked.

"Apparently."  Len was still laughing, trying to get a handle on himself.

Mick nodded.  Ok.  His truck was fine.  Lisa had known what she was doing.  It was fine.  Was it fine?  He thought it over while Len got a grip, and decided that in the grand scheme of things, this was probably fine.  He'd seen the Snarts do worse things.  He'd  _helped_ the Snarts do worse things. He wondered, again, whether he should have just let Lenny get stabbed all those years ago, but only passively.  It had been a while since either of them had made him genuinely regret it.

"Anyway," he said to Len, "I don't know why  _you_ think it's so funny.  We were a whole extra night out there, and you _hate_ camping"

Len leaned back in his chair.  "You lost the bet," he said.

Mick spluttered, "What are you talking about?  You heard her yourself!  It wasn't awful!  She had a good time!"

"Relax, Mick, I didn't win, either.  We both got played."

Mick narrowed his eyes.  Of all the Leonard Snart mind-game nonsense.  "So are you saying-"

"I'm saying Lisa won," Len said definitively.

"Lisa wasn't _in_ the bet," Mick reminded him

"Lisa was _definitely_ in the bet. She knew exactly what was going on from the start. We got played, so we lose."

Mick narrowed his eyes. He'd known Len would find a way to wiggle out of this.  But when Len was really making a stand he was almost immovable.  If Len didn't accept Lisa's own words as proof that Mick was right, there was no way he was going to be able to logic his way out of this one. But he'd worked too hard this weekend to lose this thing on a technicality, even a technicality as big as having both been played by a 10-year-old girl.

"I bet you $5 she agrees to go camping again," Mick said, "And if she does, I win both bets."

Len's eyes sparkled at him, then narrowed as if he was thinking about it, even though Mick knew he wasn't. "You're on."

"And you have to admit I was right."

"Gladly."

Len was gonna try to trick him, somehow.  He wouldn't have agreed to that, otherwise.  That was ok.  Mick could be prepared.  And maybe this time Lisa wouldn't catch on so fast.  Or maybe Mick would just be ready for it.  It didn't do to underestimate a Snart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The only thing I know less about than camping is cars, so let me know if there are things here that are wrong and I will fix them, lol. As for who wins the second bet? That's up to you. :P


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